


Playing Dirty

by meiqis



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Choking, Handcuffs, M/M, PWP, white collar au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/meiqis
Summary: A thief living with a federal agent works only for as long as work is kept out of the matter.Except maybe special agent Lin Yanjun broke this rule for the sake of his career and master forger and thief Zhu Zhengting has to go through with a meaningless bet.





	Playing Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this cc prompt](https://curiouscat.me/dadting/post/576928548) except I suck at writing angry relationship fights so please show mercy

He hated it, sitting in this so utterly boring and depressing interrogation room with grey walls and a steel table and he also hated these darn handcuffs tying his hands to the table and he hated that one certain agent had known a tad too well about his skills with breaking free and where he hid every little thing, making it impossible for him to now break the cuffs, pick the lock and escape this federal building, he hated it, and he hated how much he felt hurt.  
“Lin Yanjun!” He yelled in anger, slamming his hands down on the table, he wanted to thrash something in his frustration of all his plans having been crossed, wonderful and perfect plan to exchange a Rembrandt that had been to supposed to leave a temporary exhibition, with the security being still low, against a copy forged by his own hands and by the time that piece would have been discovered to be a fake, he’d have already sold the original somewhere or hid it or god knew what but thanks to this darn man… “Lin Yanjun, I’ll fucking kill you! Just you wait until I get my hands on you and I’ll choke you to death!”  
“So you want to choke me?”  
The voice resounding through the intercom all of a sudden made him startle, flinch lightly and the rattle of metal chains echoing through the room was even more frustrating, reminded him once again of his situation, stripped of all secret possibilities to leave, without the pin usually attached to his shirt, without his belt that usually carried a hidden wire, without anything, only able to stare at the mirror and hope his eyes were anywhere close to where that darn man stood so his glare actually met him.  
“More to the right,” the voice mocked him and it only made the frown on his face deepen, scowling as he tugged at the cuffs with the nonsensical wish and desire to just break them with sheer force alone, wrath having him pull them because it was the only thing he could do either way.  
Whether the agent wanted to mock him further or showed respect by turning off the reflex on the glass, allowing him to look into an otherwise empty room where usually a second officer would sit, at least if what TV shows portrayed was right, with all screens turned off and only that absurdly handsome prick of a man was grinning at him in delight.  
“If I remember right, last night it was you who begged me to choke you, ‘Harder… please… Yanjun, please…’ you pleaded, right?” If only possible, the expression he was faced with turned even more cocky, the imitation of his own voice making him tremble in anger as he grabbed the metal chains attached to the cuffs, straining them as he leaned over the table, felt the fire in his eyes as he looked at the older with sheer fury.  
“Get here,” he dared, kicking away the chair he had been sitting on until he heard the metal crash against the wall behind and fall over, a damned metal chair that was welded instead of fixed by screws because it would be too easy, granting him access to one of those metal pieces would allow him to escape all too easily. “Fucking get in here, you traitor! You had no right to do this! Get in here and let me choke you to death!”  
Screaming, he hated it for sure, the odd usage of his vocal chords was a strain that made him feel hoarse already, usually he’d rather talk softly or with a tone so bright, carefree, that’s what they usually called him as based on his character, carefree and bright and entirely the opposite of what he felt right now, but it seemed to be enough to lure out the other man finally, could watch how he left his position behind the microphone and out of the room, it was only that much longer until he heard the locks turning and a door open up, immediately turning around to look at Yanjun, an agent in all his glory, with his suit perfectly fitting and any other day it would have made his heart flutter, something he could only try to ignore now.  
“Get here,” he repeated again, silently, low, but the moment the older was within range, he already raised his leg in an instant to land a blow against perfectly soft and so beautifully black hair, something that would have worked with anyone else, anyone but this man, who caught his ankle with ease, securing his balance even like this.  
“Predictable, baby,” Yanjun scolded, still with that horribly mocking tone that made him all the more infuriated, supporting his weight on his hands on the table to be able to now also use his other leg to land a kick, and maybe he was really to predictable for the next moment he found himself pushed back onto the table with both his legs held tight, spread apart for the federal agent ot stand between them. “You’re too predictable.”  
“Predictable my ass! You wouldn’t have been able to catch me even if you hadn’t used dirty methods!” Like a child he flailed his legs, trying to free them of their hold that only got stronger, forced his thighs down onto the tableplate, with fingers digging into his flesh forcefully, reminding him of moments so utterly unfit to think about right that moment. “We had a promise, Yanjun, and you just… Get me out of these handcuffs and let me strangle you! You asshole deserve to die, you-”  
He didn’t get to talk more when suddenly lips pressed against his, forceful and harshly and so perfectly bittersweet, making him grunt and want to protest but all he received in return was a tongue pushing through to exploit his mouth, moving in just the right ways to soon turn him into a panting mess, losing his track of thoughts for all the while of their kiss, ravaging and intense and he hated it, hated it because it made him feel good even in a situation like this.  
Even when their mouths parted, with Yanjun looking so unfairly collected, as if this kiss had done nothing to him, as if it hadn’t bothered or moved him at all, he was hardly able to grasp his thoughts, once again taken advantage of when the other started to talk, “Zhengting, listen, okay? Listen to me, you know I wouldn’t have done this if there had been any other way to-”  
“There were other ways! You could have done it properly! But just because you couldn’t predict me, you set me on a wrong track and took advantage of me and you even dared exhausting my body for nights just to make sure I wouldn’t be able to resist, you fucking-”  
“Don’t lie!” He was interrupted, met by dark eyes that would have him turn on his heels and go to his work room if it were a normal situation, if it were at home and not this stupid interrogation room that seemed to only ever just want to remind him of unfair ways used against him, all the things he had been too naive to notice because it had been someone he trusted and that’s what he hated most, to have been hurt, his faith kicked into the dirt like a rag. “I didn’t take advantage of you, baby, it was you to keep pleading me for more to come, you begging me to go harder, deeper, to put my whole into it so you’d be able to feel me for days, wasn’t it?”  
“Hate you…” He whispered but it lacked spite, he couldn’t put his all into those words when he was beaten by hot breath hitting his ear, by a tongue flicking against his piercings, making him weak and had his fury dissolve slowly, replaced by another kind of heat soaring his body with the memories brought up by words whispered against his skin, but mostly he hated himself, because from the very beginning it had been his mistake, ever since that first moment and a little spark of attraction, and now it had backfired, he hadn’t seen it coming, he hated it.  
“What do you think about a little bet, baby?” Lips traveled lower, down his neck, kissing skin and biting flesh and marking him, marks that he wouldn’t be able to explain if they were brought up during interrogation, he wouldn’t be able to do it, admit that it had been one of their agents, the very agent to catch him, to leave those marks while they were all alone, because Yanjun might have betrayed him but he would never be able to betray the one he loved. “If you manage to pick the locks on your handcuffs to free yourself, I’ll let you go. Just like we had it going during our first time. What do you say, baby?”  
Their first time… He whined at the memory, their first night back then, that luxurious hotel in France, he had been there to get his hands onto the Hercules pendant crafted by Cellini, Yanjun had been there for… him, had followed a hint to track him down, back then there had been no face to look for, no fingerprints, no DNA, nothing, and yet they had coincidentally ended up in the same hotel, in the same bar, and in the same room.  
The handcuffs that had peeked out of a bag back then, it had tempted him quite a lot, lead to a certain challenge with ease, a challenge of who’d win, he by picking locks and the stranger in making him cum, and dear god, just remembering made him tremble in arousal, because no one had ever fucked him as good, as intense, and from then on it had only gotten worse, more pleasing, rougher, harder, longer, he whined softly as he thought of his lose, thought of the punishment that had come upon him once they had been back in their own city, coincidentally, the same.  
“You remember it, right?” The older breathed against his neck, voice low and so tempting, with hands sliding up and down his thighs, rubbing them, pressing with thumbs against the insides, well knowing that it would drive him crazy, had him spread his legs further and his head tilting back, “The reward you received when we were back. Seven hours and twenty-four minutes. You lasted that long until you were cursing me and begging me and pleading for me to just finally fuck you because it’s what you deserve, as you called it so nicely.”  
Hearing such words nearly made him curse all over again, curse at the agent between his legs who, back then, had tortured him for exactly that amount, had told him to strip and lay down in bed only to have him writhing with a toy up his ass, a toy he hadn’t been able to take out at any time, even when they had gone out to buy ingredients for dinner, because pride had forbidden him to beg, to plead to finally get fucked and be sent to heaven and back, to get rid of those horrible vibrations that were turned up and down and had him jolt and despair and moan and climax and he had felt so utterly sore, had spent the whole of the next day in that bed, just lying around and getting spoiled by the perpetrator.  
“You did the same yesterday, baby, you begged me to fuck you senseless in the morning after spending the whole night with that toy up your ass and then you screamed my name so sweetly,” Yanjun went on, teasing, tempting, making him recall things he shouldn’t even think of right now, not when he was still within this interrogation room of depressingly grey walls and hard steel furniture. “And do you know what I love most about it? It wasn’t even me to put that toy inside you, you just did it on your own, baby. If it were anyone else, I’d already be calling them a slut, you know?”  
“Shut… shut up…” With lack of air, those words were gasped rather than said, even more so with the sudden moan leaving his lips, loud and gasping and utterly helpless when a hand pressed against his crotch, palming and rubbing and making him lose the last bit of sanity when he could only roll his hips, arch his back, he wanted to move his hands and pull the other closer, stopped when he had hardly even moved them by the metal chains still attached to the table, so painfully reminding him that he was still trapped, who it was who had him trapped, broke the mood of delicious temptation into upcoming anger all over again, squirming as he tried to escape that hand working on his hard-on through the fabric of his loose pants. “Get… away from me… you traitor…”  
There was a little disapproving sound when Yanjun clicked his tongue, when strong hands grabbed his hips to yank him forward, nearly falling over from the force, only to right after feel the older grind against him, immediately breaking into a row of moans when feeling how aroused his boyfriend already was, right, his boyfriend, which made this betrayal so much worse, so much more hurting in his heart. “I won’t. Take on my bet and you’ll be able to go. Maybe.”  
“You fucking…” He cursed again, tugging at the handcuffs some more, putting his feet on the edge of the table to get away only to be pulled right back, whining when he felt their clothed crotches rubbing again, whimpering because he wanted more, despairing because he wasn’t supposed to.  
“That’s right, I’ll be fucking you. Right here, where any other agent might be able to catch us, that mysterious thief who turns into a needy slut if only touched a bit. So, what is it? Will you take the bet? Or maybe… did you want to remain caught just so you can ask for mitigation in exchange of working with me?” His lover and his smug grin, he wanted to wipe it right off his face, scowling as he stared at him for all of a moment, cursing this situation and cursing himself for having been so weak for this charming face since the very beginning, for big bright eyes and adorable dimples, except now even those darned dimples seemed to mock him.  
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, thrashing his legs until they were released, hooking them around strong hips to pull them closer, glaring up at the older in front of him. “I’d never work with a traitor! So just take this darned bet and then let me go!”  
“That’s my boy,” Yanjun hummed, pleased, finally, before he retreated to pull loose pants and expensive underwear off slender and toned thighs, reveal milky skin and a hard dick that curved up against the smooth fabric of a branded blouse, looking perfect and he knew, knew by the gaze the agent scanned his body with, before he was already distracted by calloused fingertips pressing against his lips and it was but a second before he had his tongue curl around the digits, wetting them with his own saliva while still glaring, because he hated this situation, hated Yanjun for making him go through this and even having the audacity of taking advantage of him, but if anyone was able to get him out of here, able to let him escape, it would be Yanjun.  
And he just wanted to escape, wanted to get out of this room, wanted to get all his things from their home, his set of brushes, his clothes, wanted to get all his money from his various bank accounts and clear out to that little country house he had bought in the Tuscany already years ago, wanted to leave behind this man who had betrayed him and leave behind the broken shards of his heart, not because of this betrayal, but because he’d have to abandon who he loved because he was selfish and hated the risk of it all.  
With his mouth put to use well, sucking on fingers still and doing all the things he’d usually do to other body parts, he could quite obviously observe how those dark eyes only seemed to get darker, mockery turning into greed that was endured only for so long, until he felt those very same fingers leave his mouth with a little sound and instead pressing against his hole, squirming, until he felt them push past and inside, whining and moaning when his lover didn’t hesitate a single moment before rubbing his sweet spot.  
His feet pressed against the plate, toes curled around the edges, as he rolled his hips lightly, panted with the little thrusts that soon turned rougher, felt fingers spreading and stretching him, preparing him in all the ways he was used to, in all the ways his boyfriend knew he enjoyed most, in all the ways that had him a writhing mess on the table in a matter of minutes.  
“How do you want it, baby?” A hot voice whispered against his ear again, making him mewl lightly as he tilted his head aside, felt fingers push in harder again and so proficiently rubbing against his sweet spot, pressing and rubbing and having him squirm in place with a second hand trapping his hips. “Should I fuck you like this? Or do you want me to bend you over right now?”  
“F-fuck… you…” He could only mutter, hated this audacity, hated the kind of control Yanjun was still able to exert over him at such situation, making it impossible for him to think straight, he already knew, looking at the handcuffs would be easier, but there would always be a catch to it, so in the end, when it came down to it, it wouldn’t matter either way.  
The only reply he received was an amused huff, no warning as he was left empty and filled again from one second to the other, felt his lover push in hard, thrusting his hips forward, and his own spine arched in response, a loud moan rivaling a scream left his lips as he crashed down, had all of a mind to still glare up at the older when hearing the rattling of handcuffs, moving with the pushing inside, moving with his tugging on them. “Pin… bet…”  
Yanjun released an amused sound, probably thought he’d have forgotten, would’ve been too distracted by fucking, but he did receive the brooch he had been worn just hours ago, pressed into his hands behind his back, and he had just enough time to remove the clasp from it’s cover, the so thinly sculpted gold, stolen from a museum but too unknown to have drawn attention, just enough time to grab the pin properly, before he felt thrusts picking him, faster and harder and more violent, hitting his sweet spot and nearly making him break down, hit the table with his back.  
It really was a struggle, his hands busy to pick the lock and whenever he thought he had it, pressed the mechanisms in just the right ways, there was a thrust to shake him up, made him lose his grip, was too much force and always perfectly timed, he knew it was intentional, knew it was on purpose, because a smug grin was making fun of him and kicking his pride to bits and pieces.  
It took longer than it should, longer than he was used to, but he couldn’t blame anyone, could only blame his boyfriend himself, naively handing him his handcuffs at night, oblivious to that he was using them for training, that he so perfectly knew how to break them, because he did train with his lover’s equipment and he did train his lover, advised him on easy questions, taught him some tricks, never the real stuff, never the things that were relevant to his own projects, never the things that would help catch him, but the things that helped catch others, helped getting rid of competition.  
But maybe Yanjun hadn’t been that naive, maybe he had known, and thrusts shaking up his body were soon repaid by his nails digging into flesh, scratching his nails along golden hip bones, grabbing them, digging into them, before he started tugging at the expensive shirt, working on buttons and ripping them open, just enough of them to be able to move his hands to a toned back, dragging skin, leaving marks, heard angry grunts and felt thrusts getting harder, felt his own body getting messed up and worked towards climax.  
“You said you wanted to choke me, didn’t you?” The agent suddenly mentioned, and it was all Zhengting could do to look surprised, because it was random, because he hadn’t expected it, and before he could reply he felt fingers tighten around his neck, felt his back colliding with the table and chains digging into his back, could only helplessly claw onto an overpowering arm forcing him down, along with pace picking up and strength increasing, driving the last bit of air out of his lungs, breathlessly gaping for more, pleading, whining, and he knew he had lost, had lost even with a bet won, because he always lost, because there was no way to win his lover once it was about sex.  
“Do you still want to choke me to death? You seem to enjoy this more,” the older panted, clearly already affected too, by his own exertion and strain, and with the demand for an end, with fingers circling around his dick, jerking him off, made him lose breath even more cruelly, no air in his lungs and his thoughts all eradicated, the triple teasing driving him crazy until he couldn’t hold out, could only whine and gasp more and plead with his eyes.  
Wordless communication, it had been their skill after years of fucking, his gaze so easily read and with a last effort the speed was increased, until he felt the heat rolling through his body, crushing his mind, until he felt his orgasm ruining him, crying out loudly as his body tensed up, as he released his semen, and his lover had enough of a mind to remember to cover his tip, have cum drip down between fingers rather than ruining clothes and drawing attention, and he wanted to come all over again when feeling the release inside, felt the traces of another orgasm filling him up and messing with his body too much.  
There was a calm after the storm, a calm in which they could only look at each other, coming down from their high, a calm that, too, was followed by movements again, by acts of cleaning up their mess in all the wrong and all the right ways, with his lips curling around sullied fingers and a tongue nearly driving him into overstimulation by licking away on his hole, removing any excess cum between his legs, wiping the remains on the V of his abs with a tissue, and next thing he knew he was dressed again, all proper and neat and pulled up to stand.  
“You won the bet, baby. Shall we get you out now?”

“You fucking idiot!” He yelled, throwing a pillow the moment the door opened up, but instead of his boyfriend someone else was hit entirely, caught the pillow last second and reminded him that there were three keys to this apartment going around, suddenly making him feel sheepish and caught and retreating to the kitchen in embarrassment.  
“So Yanjun didn’t make it easy for you, huh?” How Yanchen was still able to wear such a bright smile despite what had happened throughout the whole of the day seemed like a riddle to him, a walking riddle that was handed one of the ice cream cones from the freezer to eat, exchanged against a tube to be placed on the counter. “What did he do this time?”  
He didn’t reply immediately, instead he angrily pulled at the wrapper of his own ice cream, smashing it into the trash before taking a, literally so, cooling bite. “Fucking idiot… Fucking fucked me in a fucking interrogation room before fucking telling me that they have no fucking proof to fucking keep me there!”  
That there was only a laugh following his words made him all the more upset, reaching for the tube to slam against the taller’s tough frame, cardboard bending, cracking, and the lid falling off, revealing the copy of a Rembrandt that soon slid out and landed on the ground, sprawled out and giving sight to a somber and dull landscape, a landscape he could easily recognize as his own painting because of little details he messed up intentionally, details none but a true expert would notice and recognize.  
“That’s a lot of fucking,” the older pointed out between swallowing bits of frozen creamy mass, settling on one of the chairs at the kitchen table with legs spread in that usual cocky manner in only dared show around him, as if being best friends and partners in crime meant there was no use in acting charming. “He must have fucked you well for you to be lacking vocabulary like this.”  
His lips immediately were pushed into a pout, picking up the painting to place it on the counter before he sat down, too, suddenly all too focused with his nails and the marks of handcuffs around his wrists, where he had tugged too harshly, pulled too roughly, and then been kissed getting well before a hand on his back had pushed him into a taxi to get home.  
“You should’ve told me what he had been up to,” he grumbled finally, he didn’t know what was worse, his own boyfriend playing such a prank on him or his best friend taking part in that without no warning, no premonition to what had been up to come this morning, during his planned coup in the museum, prosecution dropped because of a lack evidents, the most important one, the painting, delivered by that idiot of a friend, had been taken by that very same person too, dressed like an agent, he had simply taken the canvas and slipped away, the seizure perfectly timed, before he had even been able to exchange art, for the sake of the original, apparently, but he knew better now.  
“You’re both idiots. Fucking idiots,” he grumbled into his ice cream again, sulking still to have been betrayed not only once, but twice, thrice, and it made him upset and want to cuddle into bed and he hated that on top of all that he now needed to be sore, had to be in pain thanks to those darn handcuffs having dug into his pain in that depressingly boring and grey interrogation room.  
“Don’t insult Zeren, will you?” The taller teased him, wiggling eyebrows and legs stretching into their full glory when a body rose, headed for the door already again, “Have fun with your fucking idiot of a fucking boyfriend. I’ll be gone for the weekend so let’s come up with a new plan next week. You know, keep the workdays well.”  
“Idiot… You owe me dinner when you’re back,” he only demanded before waving off his best friend, send him away to instead look for something better, harder, and bigger to throw for when the door would open up the next time around.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess but I'll blame it on the summer heat
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zhengjunist) or send me your own filth on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dadting)


End file.
